


wish I could be (part of that world)

by elizaham8957



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, F/M, Family, Fluff, Future Fic, There is no plot just fluff, i am not sorry at all, married stydia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-08
Updated: 2018-10-08
Packaged: 2019-07-28 06:02:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16235651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elizaham8957/pseuds/elizaham8957
Summary: Lydia has always prided herself on throwing fantastic parties, and even though most of her party-throwing career has centered around post-lacrosse-game, everyone-get-wasted-as-fast-as-possible ragers, that doesn’t mean she’s not going to put just as much effort into planning much tamer, family friendly soirees.Not that she’s entirely sure this party can be called tamer. As she studies their backyard, which has been transformed into an underwater, coral-reef paradise, Lydia feels that much more effort has gone into the planning and coordination for her daughter’s sixth birthday party than any party she threw back in the heyday of her high school popularity.





	wish I could be (part of that world)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lydiastxles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lydiastxles/gifts).



> HAPPY BIRTHDAY FER!!!! 
> 
> WOW, it has been a while since I have written something short and without plot and completely fluffy (the ice dancing au is consuming my LIFE) but of course I had to make an exception and put that on hold for Fer's birthday. Fer, in the year (!!!) we've known each other in this fandom, you have become one of my best friends and biggest supporters, and even a thousand fics wouldn't be close to what you deserve for everything you've done for me. I'm so thankful this fandom brought us together, and I hope you have an amazing birthday!!
> 
> To everyone else who is reading this-- thank YOU as well!! I would love to know what you think, and I am stilesssolo on tumblr and twitter if you want to find me there! Enjoy!

Looking back to her high school days, Lydia knows that the people she had known when she was sixteen probably wouldn’t recognize her now. Sure, the strawberry blonde curls and big green eyes behind the ditzy popular-girl facade were technically the same, but if anyone had told her former friends that she would someday be a Fields-Medal-winning mathematician with two different PhDs, married to Stiles Stilinski with three children, they would have flat out laughed.

The one thing in her life that has  _ truly  _ stayed consistent is her knack for party planning.

Lydia has always prided herself on throwing  _ fantastic  _ parties, and even though most of her party-throwing career has centered around post-lacrosse-game, everyone-get-wasted-as-fast-as-possible ragers, that doesn’t mean she’s not going to put just as much effort into planning much tamer, family friendly soirees. 

Not that she’s entirely sure this party can be called  _ tamer.  _ As she studies their backyard, which has been transformed into an underwater, coral-reef paradise, Lydia feels that  _ much  _ more effort has gone into the planning and coordination for her daughter’s sixth birthday party than any party she threw back in the heyday of her high school popularity. 

Pinterest-worthy invitations had gone out a month ago, tables had been set up in the backyard and adorned with layered pastel tablecloths, in sea foam green and lavender and baby pink; there were streamers to look like strands of seaweed and centerpieces with shells and strings of pearls, beachy-looking crates covered in fishing nets, and an entire table covered in fancy glass vases of pastel candies. The three-layer mermaid cake is still inside in the kitchen, Lydia knows, because it’s September in California, and the last thing she wants is her daughter’s birthday cake to melt in the heat. The pool was freshly skimmed and the lawn was trimmed, and right above the presents table on the patio, an enormous seashell cutout with  _ Happy Birthday Felicity!  _ spelled out in glittery gold letters hung proudly. 

_ Yeah,  _ Lydia thinks, standing barefoot in the grass, checking over to make sure every last detail is perfect.  _ This party is going to be absolutely fantastic.  _

“Hey, babe, I think Em is hungry,” Stiles says, pushing the slider open one-handed, their youngest bundled up against his chest with his other arm. Lydia can hear her little cries even from halfway across the yard, so she immediately turns, walking back towards the house. Stiles gives her an apologetic grimace as she comes closer— unfortunately, feeding her is about the only thing he  _ can’t  _ do for the baby. 

It might be the fact that Lydia hasn’t slept since their youngest daughter was born three months ago, but  _ jesus—  _ the sight of her husband with his shirt half-buttoned up and their newborn cradled against his chest, his hair still slightly in disarray, is the  _ hottest  _ thing she’s ever seen. 

The picturesque hot-dad image is immediately cancelled out when Stiles’s head snaps down, barking echoing from behind him; he sticks out his leg haphazardly to block their dog from running out the open slider and into the backyard. 

“No, Finn, you’re not allowed outside yet,” he reprimands, and Lydia rushes forward to take the baby out of his arms before he loses his balance and falls over. His coordination has vastly improved since he started having to wrangle children under the age of five on the daily, but she knows him well, and his balance does occasionally still leave something to be desired. 

“Come here, sweetie,” Lydia says to Emilie, brushing her curls over her shoulder and unbuttoning her top with practiced ease, her daughter’s cries immediately silencing as she eats. She’d purposely saved getting dressed for immediately before the party started for this exact reason, though her hair and makeup has been impeccable for about an hour. With his hands free, Stiles can kneel down and turn Finn around, pushing him gently back into the house. 

“Go find Felicity, okay?” he tells the dog. “Go give her a big birthday kiss.” He sighs in relief as the dog sprints back into the house, sliding the door closed behind him as he steps out onto the deck. 

“It looks incredible out here, Lyds,” he says, his eyes flitting around the backyard. “You’ve really outdone yourself.” 

“This is the Little Mermaid party I think I always dreamed of having when I was little,” she tells him, absentmindedly stroking Emmy’s arm with her thumb. 

“Well, Fel’s gonna lose it when she walks outside,” Stiles assures her, walking closer, resting his hands on her shoulders as he ducks down to kiss her quickly. Lydia laughs, shaking her head. 

“She’s going to lose it when she sees her special guest,” Lydia says, and Stiles nods in agreement. 

“You have cash for the tip, right?” she asks, and Stiles nods. “And you double checked with Isaac that he can still still bring his camera for all the pictures?” 

Stiles groans, like even  _ thinking  _ of Isaac is annoying for him. Lydia laughs— she specifically asked Isaac if he would mind taking pictures at the party, and half of the reason why was so that her husband could grumble about being  _ civil  _ with him and his scarves all day. (The other half of the reason is because he came back from France with a fancy camera and a knack for photography, and Lydia would  _ really  _ appreciate his beautiful photos of her daughter when her surprise arrives.) 

“Yes, I talked to him, and he managed to sass me  _ twice  _ in the span of our four minute conversation,” Stiles complains. Lydia just laughs, shaking her head as Emilie finishes eating. 

“Okay,” Lydia says, buttoning her top back up. “People are going to start getting here in forty five minutes. I have to get dressed. Can you make sure the kids are all dressed and ready and show the caterers where to set up when they get here?” 

“Sure thing,” Stiles says, taking his daughter from Lydia as she stands up. “You go get dressed. I’ve got it from here.” 

Thirty minutes later, Lydia’s in her dress and heels, curls touched up and makeup double checked, ready to greet their guests. She heard the door open a second ago, and based on the voices drifting up the staircase, she can tell Scott and Kira just arrived, which means that their son and  _ her  _ son are about three seconds away from wreaking havoc.

A moment later, she can hear Stiles cry, “Nathan, Nolan, don’t touch that!” and her suspicions are confirmed. 

The light is still on in her daughter’s bedroom, so Lydia knocks quietly, opening the door and sticking her head inside. “Felicity?” she calls, her eyes softening when she catches sight of her little girl, sprawled on on the floor, wearing her sparkly Ariel dress and with her nose stuck in one of her new birthday books. Her head snaps up when her mom walks in, and her grin gets even bigger. 

“Your party’s starting,” Lydia tells her, walking into the room and sitting down next to her on the floor, brushing the little girl’s strawberry blonde curls over her shoulder. “Are you ready to go see all your guests?” 

“Mmmhmm,” she hums, before pouting at her mom. “Can I finish this chapter first?” 

Lydia laughs, because sometimes Felicity is  _ exactly  _ like her. “You can finish it later, okay? Ava just got here,” Lydia tells her, and her little girl’s face brightens noticeably at the mention of her best friend. Lydia smiles as her daughter stands up, hastily closing her book and putting it back on her shelf. She does a little twirl, the glittery skirt of her dress flaring out around her. 

“Here,” Lydia says, reaching out to fix the bow on the back of her dress. She fluffs the petticoat quickly, giving her daughter a warm smile. “You look like real royalty.” 

Lydia follows her newly-six-year-old down the stairs, almost walking into Kira, who has to jump out of the way of her daughter barreling towards Felicity. “Hi,” she says to Kira once their daughters are out of the way, offering the other woman a warm hug. The doorbell rings again, and Lydia hears Derek, Malia, and Braeden’s voices from the foyer. 

“Okay,” Lydia says, immediately assuming hostess-mode. “It’s time to move this into the backyard. Let’s go, everyone.” 

Within half an hour, all the guests have arrived, from the remainders of the pack to Felicity’s friends from school to Lydia and Stiles’ parents. Melissa gives her a warm hug, whispering how beautiful the yard looks before depositing her and the Sheriff’s present on the table. All of the kids are running around the yard, Finn hot on their heels like he’s still a puppy and not nearly thirteen. Isaac shows up with both his girlfriend and his professional camera in tow, and Lydia tries not to burst out laughing at the look of disdain Stiles gives his scarf. 

“It’s like eighty degrees out, hon,” Stiles whispers to her, sounding  _ entirely  _ too offended. “Why the  _ hell  _ does he need a scarf?” 

“Why is half your wardrobe composed of  _ plaid?”  _ she asks him, raising an eyebrow knowingly, and he raises a hand to his heart like she’s mortally wounded him. 

“Et tu, Lydia?” he says, and the sound of  _ betrayal  _ in his voice is enough to send her into peals of laughter. 

“You know I’m right,” she shoots back, finally collecting herself, and he just shakes his head, refusing to meet her eyes. 

“My own wife, take Isaac’s side,” he says, as if there is no act more evil. “You know what, Lydia Martin? I know for a  _ fact  _ that you wear my flannels  _ just  _ as often as I do, okay? So your argument is  _ invalid.”  _

She doesn’t have a response for that, because it’s true. Coming home from work and curling up in one of Stiles’s too-big flannels is one of her favorite pastimes. And they make breastfeeding  _ significantly  _ easier. 

“Let’s agree to disagree, although we both know I’m right,” she tells him, patting his chest comfortingly. His expression melts at that, his eyes growing so soft. “But I need you to go wait inside. Felicity’s special guest should be here any minute.”

“On it,” Stiles says, nodding. “I’ll text you when she gets here, and you can get Fel ready.” 

“Perfect,” Lydia says, kissing his cheek quickly, before her husband disappears back into the house. Her mother-in-law still has the baby— she can see Emmy cooing at her grandma from across the lawn as her own mother hovers over Melissa’s shoulder— and Scott seems to be keeping Nathan and Nolan from raiding the candy table, so Lydia mingles with the other guests while she waits for Stiles’s text. Liam and his wife still came, even though Sarah had given birth  _ literally  _ two weeks ago and they both look ready to  _ drop  _ from exhaustion. (“If you hand the baby off to one of the other pack members and go crash in the guest bedroom for an hour, there will be absolutely  _ no  _ judgement,” Lydia informs the new parents, and they both look like they might kiss her.) Isaac is taking pictures of everything while he chats with Malia and Kira, and Derek and Braeden are catching up with Chris, keeping one eye on their two daughters, who seem to be teaching Scott’s two oldest sons some form of martial arts over by the pool. 

Lydia is pulled out of conversation with one of Felicity’s schoolmate’s parents by the buzzing of her phone. She smiles apologetically at the people she’s talking to, shifting Emmy in her arms— she’d gotten fussy ten minutes ago and had been handed back to her mother— so that she can check her phone and see Stiles’s text message reading:  _ she’s here.  _ “Excuse me,” she tells the parents, and they nod understandingly as she makes a beeline for her oldest daughter. 

“Felicity,” Lydia says, wading right into the pack of children that her daughter is currently at the center of. Her daughter’s head whips up, her attention snapping from Ava to her mother. 

Lydia smiles, because this has been the part of the party she’s been waiting for  _ all day.  _ “There’s someone special here to see you, sweetie.” 

Felicity’s brow furrows in confusion, but then the slider door opens, revealing Stiles and the special guest, and Felicity’s jaw  _ drops.  _

“Hello everybody!” Princess Ariel says, waltzing into the backyard and waving to the guests, her curls bouncing as she does a little twirl. Her aqua skirts sparkle in the afternoon sunlight, and Lydia smiles— she looks  _ just  _ like the Ariel they’d met in Disneyland last month, down to the seashells on her shoes. 

Stiles leans over to whisper something to Ariel, probably pointing out their daughter to her, but Felicity is already  _ running  _ towards the princess, party guests leaping out of her way as the little girl barrels towards Ariel. 

“Happy birthday, Princess Felicity!” Ariel says, kneeling down and opening her arms so that Felicity can run right into them. 

_ “Ariel!”  _ her daughter squeals as she flings her arms around the princess. Lydia smiles, watching the interaction, and she can hear the rapid shutter of Isaac’s camera as he catalogues the moment. 

Lydia watches as the rest of the kids flock Ariel, the princess greeting them all before she turns her attention back to Felicity, gesturing to their matching sparkly dresses, her eyes wide in disbelief. “You look just like me!” Ariel tells her, and Felicity’s grin is  _ so  _ wide. Ariel keeps talking to her daughter as the princess’s handler sneaks past the gaggle of kids, going to set up their sound system by the seashell throne Lydia had created for story time. Stiles creeps back over to her side, looping an arm around her waist, his other hand coming up so he can stroke Emilie’s forehead with his thumb. 

“I had a  _ very  _ long swim to get here today,” Ariel tells Felicity and the other kids. “But I brought one of my very favorite stories with me! Would you like to hear it?” Lydia smiles as the kids cheer, and when Felicity looks back at her parents, her smile so wide, her amber eyes sparkling, Lydia can feel her heart melt. Stiles must feel the same, because he tugs her in closer to his side, resting his head against hers. 

“You are the best mom ever,” Stiles whispers in her ear, pressing a kiss to the side of her head. In her arms, Emmy squirms, blinking up at her parents with those big, wide eyes that are  _ just  _ starting to shift to green. 

“I try,” Lydia says, trying to smirk, but she thinks it comes out as more of a smile, her heart fluttering a little bit. She knows she’s come a long way since Felicity was born, back when she would think of her  _ own  _ childhood and be convinced there was no way she could ever be a good mother, but she still always regards Stiles as the better, more natural parent. There’s nothing she loves more in the world than her kids, but half the time she feels like she still has no  _ clue  _ what the hell she’s doing. So hearing Stiles’s praise— it makes her heart swell with happiness and pride, because there’s no one’s opinion who she regards more highly. 

“Seriously,” Stiles says, his hand still firm on her waist, the heat from his touch seeping through her sundress. “And you’re a kickass party planner.” 

She just smiles at that, leaning into him so he can kiss her cheek again. Stiles’s hand is still on her arm, his fingers playing with Emmy’s tiny hand as she coos at them. Lydia rests her head on his shoulder, watching the enchanted smile on their daughter’s face as she sings along to  _ Part of Your World  _ with her favorite princess. She can’t see his face, but she can tell Stiles is smiling too, his thumb tracing patterns into her side. 

“So,” he says, turning his head so he can look at Lydia, and he has that look in his eyes, that shine that he saves just for when he’s looking at her. It still makes her heart hum, even after all these years. “Can we have Darth Vader come to my next birthday party now?” 

She laughs, looking back to Felicity and Nolan, her own smile growing at the delighted smiles on her kids’ faces. Lydia turns her head towards her husband, his arms still warm around her, and she smiles at him, her eyes sparkling. “We’ll see.” 

**Author's Note:**

> I work as a party princess on the side, so this was SUPER fun to write. Fer, I know I couldn't fly down in my Ariel costume for your birthday, but I hope this is a somewhat good replacement :) 
> 
> Thank you for reading!!


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